As she walked away from the Pine House, Ophelia selected a playlist on her phone and let the melody of the music push her forward. Her feet began to pick up pace as she fell into a soothing rhythm. Up ahead, a worn path into the woods caught Ophelia’s eye. She wasn’t sure where it led, but it was likely a path created by deer. The softer crunch of the dirt and pine needles felt better on her knees than the cracked pavement she usually ran on in the city. She still had to be aware of roots and rocks, which provided something for her brain to focus on. Her mind quieted. There was nothing but her breath, the cadence of her footfalls, and a melodic voice in the far corners of her mind. This was her meditation. She just needed to figure out how to transfer it over to treating.
Thirty minutes flew by as she ran on the deer trail. She eventually reached a clearing that she marked as her halfway point and turned back to the Pine House with renewed resolve.
“Feel better?”asked Mawmaw from her recliner. Ophelia was soaked in sweat, perfectly exhausted from her run, and in desperate need of a shower.
“So much better. I’m gonna take a shower real quick. Are you good for now?”
“Wait,” said Mawmaw as she sat up further in her chair and placed her iPad on the side table. “Come see first.”
“What’s up? Need more iced tea?”
“No, I need you to soothe this arthritis in my hand.” Mawmaw reached her right hand out for Ophelia to take.
Ophelia looked at Mawmaw in confusion. “You want me to rub your hand or…”
“I want you to treat it. Go ahead. Now is the perfect time. You’re relaxed, and your mind is clear after your run. Don’t think. Just take this soreness away.”
Ophelia held her grandmother’s wrinkled hand in hers. Ophelia examined her grandmother’s hand, tracing and probing with her own fingers over the flesh. The palm of Mawmaw’s hand was soft and held more fat and muscle than she anticipated. She slowly massaged the muscle below her thumb. Her instincts told her to start there. She pressed gently and made slow circles.
Ophelia focused on her own breath and the feel of her grandmother’s hand in hers. She made her way between the thumb and the pointer finger, massaging that sensitive muscle there. Mawmaw’s hand twitched as she applied more pressure. Ophelia took a deep breath to center herself and tugged on her magic, letting its healing ability flow to Mawmaw. She could feel Mawmaw’s magic pulling hers along, guiding hers.
Her grandmother’s hand softened in hers, and Ophelia opened her eyes. She didn’t know when she had closed them.
Mawmaw’s mischievous smile found Ophelia. “Well, that feels much better. Thank you.”
“Wait, I did it?” asked Ophelia with utter bewilderment.
“You did.” Mawmaw nodded and smoothed out the musclesof her own hand. “I barely helped you, too. You can’t do it solely by yourself yet, but you will after today.”
“Holy shit.”
“What did it feel like?”
“Like total instinct. I barely had a thought in my mind. My hands knew where to go. I just wanted to make you feel better, and I guess…I guess I believed I could. So I did.”
Mawmaw knowingly smirked. “So you did.”
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
After Ophelia showered, she lay on the guest bed wrapped in her towel. She was still in awe that she had been treated. Now, if she could only repeat it. She couldn’t possibly go for a run each time before she treated someone.
The next hurdle was coming. In thirty minutes, Mawmaw’s Traiteur friends would arrive, and they would start the whole grueling process of transferring the gift. Ophelia wasn’t ready for it. Not for any of it, really. The pain. The gift.
She was beginning to feel anxious again. She tried to slow her breath. With her inhale, her breasts rose and rubbed against the worn towel. It felt nice. Distracting. Sex, like running, had a similar effect of pulling her focus out of her head and into her body. She wanted that oxytocin hit from an orgasm. Her body deserved some pleasure before all the pain that was headed her way. Plus, it was extremely relaxing.
Before she went for a shower, she had moved Mawmaw to the back porch rocker. Her bedroom door stood open a crack, and she thought it was best to leave it that way. Just in case Mawmaw needed her, she wanted to be able to hear.Thirty minutes.Plenty of time to calm myself through some delightful touching.
Ophelia scooted to the middle of the bed and placed her head on the pillow. She unwrapped herself like she was takingout a fancy cashmere sweater from a shopping bag, peeling off that little sticker that held the tissue paper together, and appreciating the soft texture of the fibers. She caressed herself and palmed her breasts, feeling their delicious weight. She tickled her nipples, and her core clenched. Her mind was relaxing. Everything was feeling languid except for her sex, which throbbed and ached in the best way. She didn’t fantasize about anyone or anything. Her touch was enough of an arousal, and she centered herself, letting the feel of her skin bliss out her mind.
Ophelia glided her hands down her smooth torso and skimmed her fingers around the top of her pelvis, in between her thighs, and along her bikini line, teasing herself. She began to lightly play with the lips of her labia, opening and closing them with her fingers. She loved the way her lips felt when pulled apart, then slowly closed back together, like a midnight bloom. She tested the feeling of her clit with light pressure that quickly turned firmer. She began slowly rocking her hips, dipping her middle finger into herself, and dragging the liquid pooling there across her clit. She hummed softly at the feeling.Again,her body said. She dipped her?—
“Hello,” said an older male voice ringing throughout the house. “Hello?”
Ophelia froze mid-masturbation.Fuck, they’re here already. Fuck. Fuck. She could hear more shuffling down the hall as two sets of feet walked into the house and closed the door. Mawmaw was on the back porch with her third iced tea of the day and probably couldn’t hear them. Their feet were moving, looking around the house to see if anyone was home.
“Just a minute!” yelled Ophelia as she covered herself with the towel and lunged to close her door. “I’ll be out in one minute. Mawmaw— I mean, Ophelia is on the back porch.”
She threw on her denim cutoffs and a T-shirt, pulled her hair into a wet bun, and rushed barefoot out into the hall. Her grandmother’s friends must have made it outside. She heard voices coming from the back, so she walked to the back porch to greet them.
